


In The Same Way We Do Everything

by Gzmoii



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Non-Graphic Torture, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8677309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gzmoii/pseuds/Gzmoii
Summary: Sam barely managed to smile when he saw Steve. He was beaten and bruised, a feeling of hopelessness sinking in and seeping deep into the skeleton beneath his already sunken in face.
    But Steve. Steve—although his face was dirtied from the brawl he must’ve had to get to them in the first place—was absolutely shining. His eyes were bright as he twirled a pair of keys around a large finger, opening up Sam’s cell and taking the first step toward him. He lived for the fight. At one point not too long ago, Sam had been the same way.  “You look good,” Sam spoke first. It was true, but Sam wished he could appreciate the way Steve looked even half as much as he wanted to. He was aching from his head to the tips of his toes. Everything hurt. The entire time he had been locked in his cell, Sam’s whole world had been nothing but constant pain. Whether it was him being actively beaten, or letting the old ache sink in while he anticipated when the torture would resume. “You’re absolutely glowing with it, Baby. You love a good fight, don’t you?”





	

Sam barely managed to smile when he saw Steve. He was beaten and bruised, a feeling of hopelessness sinking in and seeping deep into the skeleton beneath his already sunken in face.

But Steve. Steve—although his face was dirtied from the brawl he must’ve had to get to them in the first place—was absolutely  _ shining.  _ His eyes were bright as he twirled a pair of keys around a large finger, opening up Sam’s cell and taking the first step toward him. He lived for the fight. At one point not too long ago, Sam had been the same way.

“You look good,” Sam spoke first. It was true, but Sam wished he could appreciate the way Steve looked even half as much as he wanted to. He was aching from his head to the tips of his toes. Everything hurt. The entire time he had been locked in his cell, Sam’s whole world had been nothing but constant pain. Whether it was him being actively beaten, or letting the old ache sink in while he anticipated when the torture would resume. “You’re absolutely glowing with it, Baby. You love a good fight, don’t you?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile, and his face brightened even more as the slightest dusting of pink appeared on both of Steve’s cheeks. “Bucky’s piloting the quinjet outside. Natasha’s getting the others, but I had to see you, Sam. It had to be me that made sure you were safe.” Steve slowly reached up and placed his hand on Sam’s black eye. “Jesus, I was terrified. Don’t ever sacrifice yourself for me like that again. I can bear to lose a lot of people, Sam. But not you.” He drew in a deep breath. “Let’s join everybody. Can you walk?”

“I’m fine,” Sam lied easily, running alongside Steve to the quinjet. His legs protested every step he took, and he forced himself to pretend that he wasn’t in pain. Sure, he had a few broken ribs and some minor bruising, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. He didn’t want to worry Steve. He was already dealing with more than enough. He wasn’t bleeding—not anymore—so he would be fine, eventually. Sam managed the run into the quinjet, but he didn’t get farther than that, and collapsed onto his knees as soon as he was inside the jet. Steve leaned down, picking him up, and Bucky rushed from the pilot’s seat and to Sam’s side. His eyebrows were creased with intense worry, but Sam could only barely make that out as his vision blurred.

“Sam?”

Sam wasn’t sure who called his name. The voice sounded like it had come from underwater, and he found himself drifting off, his already blurred vision turning grey at the edges and then going completely dark.

__ __ _ When Sam opened his eyes, the first face he saw was his personal guard. He had rough, reserved features with murky brown eyes and a square jawline. He was tied up, hanging upside down in the middle of the room while G.I. Jerk circled around him. _

_ “Guess who failed? And we didn’t even need you to talk, after all.” He cracked his knuckles, his hand going for the gun in his holster. Sam and that gun had gotten acquainted with each other fairly well already, but he knew this was it. He and the gun were about to have their very last encounter. “But since we have what we want, then you’ve suddenly become a very human, very  _ **_expendable_ ** _ prisoner.” He flicked off the gun’s safety. “Any last words? I really would torture you more, but it just isn’t fun for me. Not unless you scream. Your kind were always a little too resilient for my taste.” _

__ __ _ Sam’s eyes rolled at the jab. He’d been spouting out how strong black men were and how he’d loved to make them scream the most since he and Sam had first been introduced. The way he waxed racist poetic about his love of torturing black men had gotten old, fast. _

__ __ _ “Nothing to say, really? Not a single thing at all? Not even if I told you that your boyfriends were tied down and powerless right now, watching me about to kill you?” _

_ Sam had to hold his tongue. He wanted to make Sam angry, and Sam refused to give him what he wanted. “There’s the camera.” G.I. Jerk pointed at the camera, and Sam stared into it, trying to say everything he needed to with his eyes. _

__ __ **_I love you both. But you never should’ve come for me. You should’ve let me die here, alone._ **

**** **** _ “Hm. I’m sure they would’ve wanted to hear something from you, it’s really too bad.” He cocked his gun and stuck it in Sam’s mouth. Sam just closed his eyes. _

__ __ **_Daddy, Mama. . .Riley. It’s time for me to join you._ **

* * *

 

“Three fractured ribs, internal bleeding, mild asphyxiation, and serious lacerations and bruising on both the left and right sides of the torso and down both thighs,” Bucky listed off as he saw Sam opening his eyes. He was holding one of Sam’s hands in his flesh one, gently stroking his fingers.

“Don’t forget rope burns along his wrists, ankles, and across his torso.” Steve struggled to keep his tone light as he spoke, but halfway through he started to sob. Sam lifted his hand and ran his fingers through Steve’s hair, soothing him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam breathed. He was still shaken up from what he’d dreamed about while he was unconscious, but he didn’t want to make Steve feel worse by appearing to be in a bad state.

“Sam, Darlin’, you gotta stop saying you’re okay when you’re not,” Bucky told him. His eyes were brimming with tears, but he refused to let them fall.

“We almost lost you, after I got you out of there. I know that you don’t bleed on people because I’m the same way, but I thought that we—me, you, and Buck—bled on each other. There’s a trust between the three of us that’s unmatched. We need you to tell us if you’re hurting, Sweet Prince.”

“I’m gonna be okay.” Sam looked away from Steve and Bucky to take in his surroundings. He was in a room he didn’t recognize, but it was far more extravagant than any of the motels he and Steve had stayed in while he was with Bucky. Sam had known Steve was loaded from decades of military back pay, but he wasn’t the type to splurge on a hotel. “Wait, where am I?”

Steve wiped his eyes before answering. “King T’Challa gave us temporary refuge while you heal as a favor for trying to kill Bucky.”

Sam nodded. He looked down at his hands. They were wrapped from his palms down to his wrists, and Sam had to take in a deep breath before he pulled his hands away from both Steve and Bucky to lift the blankets covering him from the neck down. Sam pushed the blankets off with a quiet wince, eying the bandages that started at his chest and went down to his whole torso, then wrapped around his thighs and ankles. He pushed down, using the gained momentum to throw his feet over the side of the bed.

“Sam, wait—” Steve began.

“Are you sure you can walk?” Bucky finished for him, his flesh arm carefully going under the part of Sam’s legs that wasn’t injured. “Your legs are really badly hurt, Sam. Let me carry you. I can help, Darlin’.  _ Please _ let me.”

Sam settled his heavy gaze onto Bucky. There was so much in his eyes that he refused to say. “I’ll just stay here,” he decided, resigned. He stared up at the ceiling silently, feeling hollow. Whenever he closed his eyes, he was there again. He didn’t want to sleep anymore, but he was still too hurt to move.

“Sam, we’re so sorry. Please talk to us,” Steve sobbed. Sam could feel Steve’s tears on the back of his hand. He raised his hand and wiped Steve’s tears away with a bandaged finger.

“I made my choice,” Sam told them both. “I still love you guys. We’re all alive, that’s what matters.” His eyes lingered on Bucky’s empty sleeve. “We all lost something because of a decision I made.”

“Sam,  _ Baby,  _ no.” Bucky shook his head. “That is  _ not _ on you. Don’t you  _ dare  _ blame yourself for that.”

Sam just smiled. He kept his eyes on the pale white ceiling, concentrating on the soft sounds of Steve’s breath.

He wasn’t crying anymore. Sam was glad. He hated himself for being the one to make Steve cry.

* * *

 

 

Sam could walk. His abdomen still was wrapped up and ached whenever he moved too quickly or stretched up to reach something, but he could move on his own. He wasn’t as much of a burden on Steve and Bucky anymore.

The first thing Sam did when he could move throughout the suite was lock himself in his room, where he could be away from the sad, longing looks Steve and Bucky were giving him. They saw him withdraw and they pulled him back every single time, relentless. But Sam didn’t want to be brought back. He wanted to drown in everything he was feeling until he got lost in it completely and never came out.

“Sam? Baby, it’s us.”

Sam sat down in his bed, staring at the wall. He didn’t want them to come in. He didn’t want to be brought back.

Steve and Bucky were so sweet. Too sweet. Sam felt like he didn’t deserve all the love he received from them. His warden, back in the underwater prison, had told him that no one loved men like him as he kicked in Sam’s ribs. That all Sam would ever be good for was to be used as a tool. Sam wasn’t worth anything if he wasn’t being obedient to whoever cared for him. Whoever owned him.

Sam shook his head at the thought. The warden, G.I. Jerk, was a racist piece of shit. He was wrong. No one owned Sam. He was his own person. He could make his own decisions.

“Baby, open up!” Steve was the one to speak up this time, although Sam knew Bucky was still there. “Baby, please talk to us.”

Sam could make his own decisions.

He was worth more than how much he could obey.

Bucky and Steve loved him. They did not own him. He only felt as if they belonged to each other because that was what he  _ wanted _ .

Sam stood and dragged his feet over to the door. He reached out, opening the door for them both.

He had suffered in silence for weeks, now. He was done with that. It was time for him to speak up.

“Sweet Prince, is everything alright?” A hand came to each side of Sam’s face. One radiating intense heat, and the other as cold as ice.

Sam shook his head. “I need the both of you to not talk, this time. Just listen.”

Sam lead them to their bed, laying himself down with Steve on his left and Bucky on his right, and he felt  _ safe.  _ They were home, to him.

He told them everything. All the mental and emotional torture that Sam’s injuries hadn’t revealed. Every nightmare he’d had since then. How much he had wanted everything to just stop. The pain had become too much. He’d just wanted the warden’s voice to stop haunting him, for good. He even told them how close he’d come to ending it all, while they slept, and how when he thought of how much it hurt to lose the people he’d loved, he couldn’t bear to put them through that. Not again.

“I need help,” Sam admitted. “I didn’t realize how much until now. I thought I could just drift away. I thought feeling nothing would be better.” He swallowed hard, gripping onto the loose fabric of Bucky’s sleeve, his head on Bucky’s chest while Steve rubbed his back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Steve told him, his voice soft. We’ll get through this, the same way we’ve gotten through everything.”

They all spoke at once. “Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr if you want!](https://nerdbbks.tumblr.com/)


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